Winterlight
by Livvy1800
Summary: James is caught somewhere between the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes, struggling to find his footing after escaping HYDRA's machinations. Living in the Tower in NYC with the team, but not part of it, leaves him at loose ends. Until Darcy Lewis makes him her next pet project, a terrifying prospect. Learning to live again is a risky business...
1. Chapter 1

**This is completely a product of my own mind, with characters borrowed from Marvel. I may or may not stick to canon (doubtful, tbph). This is more of a "Hey, I need more side Avengers stories than Marvel will probably ever give us, so here ya go." thing...**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter One

Darcy Lewis was going to murder her best friend. Jane (Foster, brilliant scientist, true love to a thunder god, and worst boss ever) had accepted a top secret mission with the Avengers and freaking _left Darcy behind_.

All of which Darcy had found out through Tony Stark's AI Friday when she couldn't find her bestie/boss, or most of the team, anywhere in the Tower. The only one left behind besides her was Dr. Banner. Apparently they didn't anticipate a "Code Green", something Bruce seemed profoundly grateful for. He'd taken one look at Darcy's red face and balled up fists when she'd tracked him down, and hustled her out for Thai food and ice cream.

Three hours later, much more mellow and completely stuffed, Darcy dropped onto the long couch in the common room with a huge sigh.

"How'd you know shoveling delicious food in my mouth would keep me from freaking out?"

Bruce smiled as he sat down and handed her the TV remote. "Works for me."

Darcy grinned, and flicked through channels until she found some garbage reality show. Maybe next time the team took Bruce out in the field, she should hide some Snickers bars in Nat's weapons bag. A hangry Hulk could do hella amount of damage.

"Is it going to get you angry again if I ask why you were so upset at being left here?" Bruce propped his feet on the coffee table, slouching down into the deep cushions. "I hate going, but sometimes they need me, I get it. But the bullets, the chaos... the Big Guy coming out to destroy everything he can get his hands on. I hate it."

"Yeah, I can see why that would be, um, stressful. But it's not like that for me," Darcy said, furrowing her brow as she watched one of the women on the show literally flip over a table in a restaurant and scream at her dining companions. Talk about Hulking out. "See, I mostly stay back at base of Op, but at least I'm there. Jane's not just my boss, or even just my friend. She's like my sister. I guess I just feel a little protective of her going off where I can't take care of her."

Bruce looked surprised, then hesitated as if considering his words. Darcy's mouth twisted to one side as she waved a hand at him.

"I don't mean protect her from danger. That's not my department. But once she gets in from the field, I take over. Who do you think keeps her on schedule, reminds her to eat, to sleep? To surface every once and while, and not burn herself out? Jane cares so much about helping others that she forgets to take care of herself. That's my job."

And she couldn't do her job when she was shut out and left behind.

Shrugging her shoulders in a restless motion, she turned back to the TV. "I guess I'm just feeling sort of useless right now."

Bruce patted her knee in brotherly gesture, making her glance over.

"Well, if you want to sub in one hopelessly-inept-at-life scientist for another while she's gone, I wouldn't mind you checking in on me sometime." He sighed and raked a hand through his already messy curls. "Tony left me with a... puzzle. When you barreled into the lab with smoke coming from your ears, I'd been working for, uhh, I think eighteen hours. Straight. I think I'd had a cold cup of coffee in there at some point, but I can't be positive."

"Oh, for Christ's—" Darcy rolled her eyes and popped up from the couch. She glared down at him with her hands on her hips. "And when was the last time you've actually _slept_ , Banner?"

His sheepish expression was all she needed to herd him toward the door, down the hall, into the elevator, up a floor, and to the door of his room. Ignoring all protests, she got Friday to unlock the door and shoved Bruce in inside. Raising her finger in a threatening manner, she stared him down.

"If Friday tells me you stuck one foot outside this door before 6am, you'll have to bring out your big green buddy to save your ass, Banner. I'm not joking, even a little."

"But—"

"The puzzle Tony left you can wait." She shook her head, cutting him off. "If you don't sleep, you won't be at your best. If you're not at your best, you're letting down the entire team."

"Low blow, Darcy."

Her smile was almost gleefully evil to be called a smirk. "Now you know what you asked for. Get some rest, Doc. See ya in the morning!" And she pulled the door shut in his face, dusted off her hands, and walked away whistling. She wasn't a superhero or master assassin, or mad scientist. Her job was people herding and she was damn good at it.

Back in business, and it felt good.

The mission kept Jane and the team away for longer than any of them had anticipated. Maria had finally shared with Darcy and Bruce that one of Tony's many contacts had tracked down the Winter Soldier and so the entire team had gone to "collect" him. Bruce had agreed that maybe it was better for him to wait to meet Steve's former best friend, considering.

"I don't get it." Darcy's blew on her hot chocolate and took a cautious sip. The scalding liquid that burned the roof of her mouth told her she hadn't been quite cautious enough. Story of her life. "Why Jane? I mean, she's not exactly a fighter, let's be honest."

Ha! Jane's idea of an attack was running someone over with her car, or maybe braining them with a frying pan. Actually, that wasn't such a bad idea.

"I think Tony felt having her there might be helpful, her being a doctor and all."

"She's not a psychiatrist! Or even the kind that wraps up booboos."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what she said to Tony, but have you ever tried arguing with him? It was easier to just go."

Darcy rubbed fingers over her forehead, attempting to smooth away the headache brewing. Tony could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. She sat in silence through the rest of Maria's explanation, that while the team's plan had worked, they'd lost and found James Barnes three time since the original capture. Apparently he was the Houdini of prisoners and kept escaping. The upside is that they think he might have shaken off at least some of his HYDRA compulsion, since he left behind a trail of incapacitated bodies rather than dead ones.

"Oh, hooray," said Darcy sourly when Maria finished. Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes. "So what now? I mean, they've got him in custody again and are keeping him sedated until... what?"

Maria avoided her eyes. "He's being transported back to the Tower, where we've been preparing a special room for him. Similar to the Box, at SHIELD's base."

"You're bringing him here?!"

"Oh, now that doesn't sound like a good idea," Bruce added, rubbing the back of his neck, looking anxious.

Maria sighed and spread her hands. She looked tired for a moment, then rallied, her usual unreadable expression returning.

"It's the best one we've got at the moment, and I promise you it'll be safe. He needs... help. We need information. To get all that, he needs to be close to hand." She stood, shuffling her files back together and stepping away from the table. "You won't even know he's here."

After she left, Darcy and Bruce just sat at the table for a long moment.

"Somehow—" Darcy shoved back her chair and stood, frowning at the empty doorway. "I kinda doubt that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Not my characters, borrowed from Marvel. Just having some fun with them...**

 **Chapter Two**

For the first time in a long time, he was warm. Warm and full and relaxed. Well, as relaxed as he ever got.

Until he realized he couldn't move.

He was strapped to something. Taking a steadying breath, he turned his head, taking in his surroundings. It was a bed, a nicely cushioned one unlike the hard pallet in his former cell at the HYDRA base, but with similar bands that kept him still. He didn't like it.

The room was mostly white, even the floor, except a large inset TV on one wall that showed relaxing scenes from a deserted beach. The soft sound of crashing waves and seagulls was being piped in from somewhere, clearly intended to be calming.

But he wasn't feeling very mellow anymore.

Jerking his metal arm, the one that got him out of nearly any restraint, he snarled when it held fast. This was bad. Somehow he'd been compromised. All he remembered was red, and then the black of nothing. His pulse sped up as his gaze darted around the room, cataloguing every corner, every crack.

"Buck."

That voice. He... knew it? Maybe.

He turned to stare at the wall to his left, across the room, as the opaque whiteness dissolved to show a clear floor to ceiling window. Behind it stood the blond man from the bridge. The one he'd tried to kill, but couldn't make himself follow through. Later on the gun ship he'd shot him, but again, couldn't finish the job. He did know him. Somehow.

The man placed one hand on the glass, his mouth tight, eyes filled with sadness. "Buck, we're not here to hurt you. We want to help. But you need to let us, you need to stop trying to leave."

That's right. The blond man had shown up again with some more friends a few weeks ago and tried corner him. But he'd escaped. They finally captured him, but he escaped again. This game had gone on for a while, until a girl with red eyes and long hair had done something to him as he was slowly prying off pieces off the armor of the man in the metal suit during the last fight, and he'd passed out at her feet.

Next thing he knew, he was a hamster in a cage. Again.

"Why?"

"Why trust us?" The blond man sighed, his hands dropping to his side. "Because you're my friend, Bucky. No matter what you've done, I know it wasn't you. Not really. And I think there's a chance we can help you get back to being, well, maybe not your old self, but—"

"No." He interrupted, flexing his metal arm against the bands again. He really didn't like feeling helpless. "Why do you keep calling me that name?"

The blond man opened and closed his mouth for a moment, then his hands fisted at his side.

"Because it's your name, the one you were born with. James Buchanan Barnes. You insisted we call you Bucky, though. Said James sounded like a tightass. And that, you were not." He raked a hand through his perfect combed hair, looking frustrated by the blankness that met his words. "We grew up together, like brothers. Do you remember what I said on the gun ship?"

Memory flickered, not a particularly good one, and Bucky flinched, metal arm rattling in the bands.

"'Til the end of the line," he rasped out, throat suddenly dry.

The blond man stilled, a hint of hope coming into his bright blue eyes.

"Yeah. That's us. You and me, Buck. It always has been."

Another memory took the ugly one's place, a stronger one. Playing in a field as children, baseball gloves on their hands, trash talking and laughing.

Bucky raised his chin and studied the blond man, taking in every detail. He looked different than the skinny kid with dirty knees, but in many ways, the exact same.

"Steve."

Steve's eyes filled with tears. "Yes."

There was a long moment of silence, spooling out into eternity, as they stared at each other through the glass. Then Bucky felt something he hadn't felt in a long time, maybe decades. Amusement. It was faint, hardly more than a passing wisp of humor, but he let one corner of his mouth quirk upward.

"Still pickin' fights, huh?"

Steve's laugh was broken, as he swiped a hand over his eyes. "I think this was the right fight to pick, this time."

Was it? Was there anything left of James Buchannan Barnes, besides a few random memories? Bucky didn't know, but something else he hadn't felt in a long time was worming its way through the twisted ruins of his mind:

Hope.

They removed his restraints that day, retracting them into the sides of the bed by remote. It took another three weeks, and multiple sessions with a SHEILD physiatrist, before they allowed Steve into the box with him.

Bucky couldn't deny that, for a moment, he'd wanted to attempt an escape, as the door swung open to let Steve in. _Run, rabbit, run._ Rabbit. He snorted at the thought. He'd been a wolf for a very long time.

He fought the urge, beating it into submission, because he knew if HYDRA tried to take him here, they'd have to go through Steve first. And that didn't seem very likely, with the only man who could match him being the very one he guarded. Bucky could... heal. He had time here. Recover, both in body and mind. As best he could, anyway.

It was three months before he left the box, even for short breaks.

Six months before he was allowed outside, with a superhero escort, of course.

Ten months had gone by before he was handed a gun again, and pointed toward the shooting range. It was gratifying to find his skills hadn't rusted. Or depressing. Both, really.

A year after the Avengers captured the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes stepped out of the elevator onto the main living floor of the Tower and set down his duffel bag. He'd collected a few books and other things over the past few months, during his wanders through the city with Steve. Nothing he couldn't live without, but when asked if he'd like to bring them to his new suite on the team's floor, he'd appreciated the opportunity.

It was still hard to attach himself to things, and people, but he was working on it. Proximity helped. Being surrounded by objects like books or posters, that he'd chosen himself, helped. Steve had pushed the team to extend an invitation to live on the same floor as them, citing that it would only help his recovery. Socialize and rehabilitate the assassin. Slowly integrate him back into society, or something.

Steve, the eternal optimist.

With a sigh, Bucky picked his bag up and followed the blue arrows Friday so helpfully lit along the walls to show him toward his room. He'd deliberately picked a time to move in when the AI informed him most of the team had left the building for an evening of entertainment. The last thing he needed until he'd acclimated to his new situation was dealing with that group. Steve had tried to be upbeat when Bucky asked him how the others reacted to the news of his imminent arrival downstairs, but his verbal dancing around the question was answer enough.

Lost in thought, he rounded the corner and slammed into a body moving the other way at considerable speed. Dropping his bag, he got a double handful of lush curves and fuzzy cotton, and a mouthful of hair. Hair that smelled like flowers, fresh and sweet.

"Shit! Ow!"

Stepping back carefully, Bucky removed the hank of hair from where it had tangled in his days old beard and lips, taking a long look at the girl who'd run into him. Scratch that, not a girl. A young woman. A beautiful young woman.

Dark, curling hair that flowed over her shoulders, snapping green eyes, a wide, soft red mouth, and he was right about the curves. Rounded and full in all the right places, the kind of figure he hadn't seen since the pin-up bombshells he and Steve used to watch in the movies. Nowadays the actresses seemed to all be competing for who was the most skeletal.

Blinking, Bucky narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, taking a step back.

The lush figure was currently encased in a full pajama bodysuit of fuzzy red and white stripes, with bright green attached booties. Booties with little sparkly bows on the tips. She looked like an adorably sexy, pissed off elf.

" _Excuse_ you. This is a restricted floor. You can't be here without a special pass." She tapped one bootie rapidly, crossing her arms. "Friday, send Security."

"Sure thing, Darcy, but—"

"Now, Friday!"

"We're good, Friday. Stand down." Bucky pulled his pass out from under his tee shirt, and held it up for inspection. With a suspicious glance towards the ceiling at Friday's silence, she leaned forward, squinting.

"Crap. I can't see without my glasses. Friday, help a girl out?"

"Darcy Lewis, meet James Barnes, Clearance Level Eight. Cap cleared him, and Tony's assigned him a suite on this floor."

" _What?_ " Darcy's eyes widened and she hopped back a couple steps, just out of reach. Or what she clearly thought was his reach. She was wrong, but didn't need to know that now. "Who...What... Why wasn't I informed of this? I mean, _sure_ , I'm just an assistant but I live here too and—"

"I believe it was in the memo slipped under your door last week. The one currently being used as scrap paper for a shopping list, on your kitchen table."

"Don't be a jerk, Friday."

"My apologies, a'course, Darcy girl."

Darcy made a face at the ceiling as the IA's Irish accent thickened with charm, and Bucky couldn't stop the snort of amusement that came out.

Which brought Wrathful Elf's gaze back down to him. She licked her lips nervously, and he couldn't help but watch the flicker of tongue over rose tinted softness. How long had it been since he'd had a woman in his arms?

Longer than he liked to think about.

Bucky cleared his throat and looked away from her plump mouth, concentrating on tucking his pass back into his shirt collar.

"So, umm... welcome to the Tower." Darcy paused, then worried her lower lip with perfect white teeth for a moment, her gaze flicking over to his metal arm. It was covered by the long sleeve tee, but her eyes darted away as soon as she saw him notice. "Stupid. Sorry. I forgot you've been here a while. I mean, not _here_ here, upstairs really, but... Anyway. Welcome to the Avengers floor, I guess."

Yes, she sounded as thrilled to have him there as he imagined the rest of the team would be. Bucky hefted his duffel bag on his shoulder again, resigned. The road to freedom, and earning the Avengers trust, was going to be a long one. And probably damned rocky.

"Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way. You won't even know I'm here." He brushed past her, following the blue arrows again.

"Somehow, I doubt it." Her muttered comment at his back was grumpy, but also held a note of something else he couldn't decipher. Unable to help himself, he glanced back as he rounded the next corner.

Arms still crossed, she stood in her fuzzy pajamas, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders like crashing waves of silk, watching him with deep green eyes. It was an image he wouldn't be able to get out of his mind for a very long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Yeah, this chapter is a little long, compared to the others, but hopefully a good one. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Three**

Everything was weird.

Not that things were ever exactly _normal_ at Avengers' Tower, let's be honest. But since Barnes had moved in four weeks ago, the weirdness factor had definitely bumped up several notches.

Bruce wouldn't leave his lab, Wanda drifted around looking spooked, Clint left for his farm and hadn't come back yet. Nat and Tony were cranky as hell, with Sam in the running close behind. Thor had whisked Jane off for an extended visit to Asgard. Only Steve seemed in good spirits, walking the halls with a little smile of pure happiness.

Oh, and the weirdest of all were the times he would run into the Vision in the hall, who would greet him with a "Yes, well _done,_ Captain." and a high five.

She hadn't even realized the Vision knew what a high five was.

Darcy sat with folded legs on the floor next to the wall of windows, in the common room, leaning one shoulder on the glass. She watched the city traffic sixty floors below, chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation. She was again without duties since Jane had left, and was feeling a little aimless. A PA didn't have much to do without someone to actually assist. Bruce hadn't needed her this time around, since Nat was around. He'd mumbled something about how shockingly similar their methods were, while giving his lunch of salad and vegetable soup the side-eye.

Which Darcy took as a _compliment_ , of course.

A noise across the room made her look up. Think of the Devil and he shall appear looking all scruffy and hot, that was the saying, right? Barnes crept through the doorway, an evil glint in his baby blues.

Okay, not really. Well, not on purpose.

He still just sort of _exuded_ menace, and all that super assassin training had made him stealthy as fuck. Darcy remembered how, right before Clint had huffed off to his farm, Barnes had silently walked up behind him and asked him where the kitchen was. The bowman had nearly gone through the roof, letting out a very undignified squawk of surprise, earning himself the nickname Chickenhawk for the next week.

She laughed softly at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. But it was too late.

Barnes's head whipped around, his hard eyes finding her immediately. The laughter died in her throat, her heart rate picking up at the blank granite mask of his face. But in the next instant, the stony look melted away and the ice in his eyes warmed, caused her breath to skip.

When he remembered to act like a human, Barnes was distractingly gorgeous.

"Hey," he said quietly, moving toward her. Out of reflex Darcy stiffened, pressing back against the glass wall. It wasn't that he frightened her, okay he did a little, but she'd learned during her time with the team, better to be safe than sorry. Especially after all that "HYDRA hiding in the ranks" thing.

Barnes stopped in his tracks, clearly reading her discomfort. He let his hands dangle loosely at his sides, cocking his head toward the couch just a foot away from him.

"Mind if I sit?"

She hesitated, and his expression closed up immediately. He shifted his weight, as if preparing to turn and leave, and Darcy felt terrible. He'd never been anything but polite, always so careful around her.

Before she could think about it any further, she blurted out, "Yeah, that's fine. I mean, I'm just hanging out. You can, you know, hang out too. If you want."

He searched her face with those dark blue eyes, intent. "If you're sure."

This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Steve trusted him, and so did Stark's Girl Friday. If an AI that watched Barnes's every waking moment felt he was not a threat, then certainly Darcy could at least stay in the same room as him for an hour.

"I'm sure." He started to sit down on the couch, then froze as she held up a hand. "Wait!"

Darcy arched a brow. "Did you bring snacks?"

The exasperated look he gave her had her giggling, as she drew her knees up and rested her chin on them.

"What? I'm hungry."

"Sorry, no snacks." He sank into the cushions, legs splayed, and rested his head on the back of the couch. Lids mostly shut, his gaze was just a glint of blue as he watched her.

Darcy just sent him a little smile, and wiggled her toes on the soft carpet, nails painted vivid red.

"At least that's one thing the same as before."

She glanced up, to find him looking at her toes. He flashed her a grin and laced his fingers behind his head, now looking fully relaxed.

"Girls painting their fingernails and toes was still pretty new in my day, but I'm glad it caught on. It's, uh, stimulating."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "We don't do it for you guys. Mostly."

"Yeah, I know. Kind of makes it even better." At her quirked eyebrow, he continued. "Because there's very little sexier than a woman who feel confident in her own skin, and celebrates it."

Well, now she was blushing. Was this even real life? Talking to a former HYDRA assassin about painted toenails? But then something he'd said snagged in her mind, causing her to frown and sit up straight.

"Wait. What do you mean, in your day? I mean, you're here now, sooo."

He shrugged, closing his eyes fully. By the sudden tension in his shoulders, she'd have to guess it was more to avoid her gaze than because he was tired.

"Barnes, I have two older brothers. My skill set doesn't include garroting people, but I could probably pester you to death. Don't make me pull out my hard won tricks."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, and he opened his eyes again. God, they were so pretty, the shining blue surrounded with thick black lashes.

"Who I was, back then, that person is gone," he said slowly, smile fading away. Sitting up from his slouch, his hands dropped into his lap, and he stared down at the metal one. "That was a different time, with a different man. A different life, one I can't live anymore."

Well, Darcy certainly knew how to suck all the fun out of a conversation. Jumping up, she crossed to the couch and sat down next to Barnes, her knee bumping his.

"Listen, Barnes—"

"Bucky."

She hesitated, then shook her head. Too weird. Only Cap called him that.

"James." He let out a soft snort, but she rolled over anything he could have said. "Listen, James, I'm not going to say you shouldn't feel that way. I mean, you are different now, of course you are. Who wouldn't be changed by what you went through? The things you did, the things done to you? But that doesn't mean your life ended in 1943."

He looked at her. "I don't know how to feel alive, Darcy Lewis. HYDRA took that from me, and damned if I'm not trying to get it back, but..."

"But?" He was breaking her heart.

"But I... I don't know. I don't know if that's something I can relearn. If I have it in me."

Darcy sat back, her chest tight. Resolution filled her as she took in the shaggy hair pulled back in a rubber band, the worn jeans and old grey tee shirt, the metal hand and the flesh and blood one. Dark blue eyes studied the hem of his shirt, like what he was saying didn't matter, but the tense bands of muscles in his forearms gave lie to his causal mien.

"Fine, challenge accepted." His eyes flashed up to hers in surprise, and Darcy smiled. "Let's teach you to live again."

 **0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Bucky was a little afraid of what he'd gotten himself into. Well, not afraid, exactly. Wary. He was wary. It was good to be wary, saved his ass many a time. And it looked like this time was no different.

"I'm just sayin', I think you should give it a chance."

No way in Hell.

"James, are you even serious right now? Skeeball, pizza, and video games all in one place! How can you turn this opportunity down?"

Because he wasn't fully insane? Because HYDRA hadn't completely broken his will to live?

Bucky blew out a long breath. "There were lots of things I had to do while on a mission to survive, or keep my cover intact, but even then I'm pretty sure I'd draw the line at... at _this_."

Narrowing her eyes, Darcy crossed her arms in a stubborn gesture he'd become very familiar with and leaned back against the brick wall next to the glass door with the mouse decal on it. He automatically held out a hand to keep it from swinging into her as the door opened, disgorging a multitude of shrieking, messy children clutching game tokens and leftover pizza, trailed by several ragged looking adults.

One of them paused briefly, and stared at them with wild eyes, his hair sticking up in clumps.

" _Save yourself_."

Bucky just pressed his lips together in suppressed laughter and shook his head at Darcy, as the poor man wandered into the parking lot. "I've heard less desperation from POWs. Sorry, Lewis, but I am not going in there."

"Oh my God, you're _such a wimp_."

Her exasperation made him chuckle, he followed her back to her car. She popped the locks and he opened her door, leaning on it as she slid into the driver's seat. "No, I just have some small measure of self-preservation now."

"I'm just saying, you need to open to new experiences, James. _Fun ones_." She turned the key in the starter, then frowned when it just made a clicking sound. "What the hell...? I just had the battery replaced a couple months ago—"

Everything slowed as she started to turn the key again, then snapped back into focus, and Bucky lunged forward.

" _No! Get out!_ " Without giving her a chance to comply, he yanked her from the car and threw them both sideways behind the bumper of the car next to them in desperation.

Her car exploded in a huge ball of fire and metal.

Pain seared through him, his back blistering from the heat as he huddled over her, protecting her with his body. Darcy screamed, clutching his wrists, her fingers biting into flesh and metal in terror.

"Stay still, I got you!" Bucky shouted, but in the next second he was knocked sideways as a chunk of metal slammed into his back from a second, smaller explosion. She scrambled across the pavement for him, screaming his name, tears and soot streaking her cheeks.

The pain was intense, some of the worst he'd suffered thus far, and breathing was nearly impossible. But at least he could feel the pain (numbness would be worse) and he was still conscious. They needed to get out of there. HYDRA was behind this, he had no doubt in his mind.

If there was a bomb, they'd sent agents as well, in case he managed to escape being blown up.

"Darcy. Darcy, listen now," he rasped out, struggling against the agony to breathe, and she leaned close, her beautiful green eyes filled with tears. "Call... call the team. Need extraction. HYDRA's probably here already."

She nodded frantically, patting her jeans pockets until she found her cell. With shaking fingers, she hit the emergency button that would activate a homing signal and put the call straight through to headquarters.

Her hair swung forward, and Bucky realized the curling ends were singed. Blazing fury at the sight helped him push back a fresh wave of pain. He was going to find out who had ordered this and dismantle them. Slowly.

"Steve? Steve, help us, there was a bomb, my car, it's horrible, and Bucky is... _hurt_. He told me HYDRA is... is here, somewhere." Her voice broke a few times, garbled from crying so hard, but clearly Steve understood her because she managed to briefly answer a few questions, then hung up. "They're coming. Just... don't move, okay?"

Shit. They couldn't stay here. Any second agents would show up. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Bucky levered himself into a sitting position. Ignoring Darcy's protests, he managed to stagger to his feet, hanging onto the side of the truck next to them.

"Not an option. We need to move."

"Oh my God. Bucky..." Darcy started to reach out, to touch his back, then yanked her hand away, expression horrified.

" _Now, Darcy_."

He still had a gun in his ankle holster, several knives tucked away, and garroting wire wrapped around his wrist. Not to mention his bionic arm. But with Darcy limping along next to him as they crept through the parking lot filled with screaming people and smoke, he felt vulnerable. If they couldn't slip away, if the team didn't show up soon, odds were they'd be taken.

The chunk of Darcy's car was still lodged in his back, his shirt had burned away, and probably a sizable amount of flesh and muscle as well, considering the searing agony every step was causing him. Maybe he could fight through it, but he wouldn't be able to protect them both. Maybe not either of them.

Glancing behind them as the smoke shifted, he could see movement around the burning wreckage of her car, and knew the agents had arrived. Gesturing toward a bank of trees around the side of the building, he urged Darcy to move faster. The cover wouldn't last against a thorough area search, but hopefully it would keep them hidden long enough for help to arrive.

Pushing through the pine leaves, he pulled her in with him, tight up against his body, and slumped against the brick wall. Now all they could do is wait. Closing his eyes, Bucky focused his attention on the other side of the screen of branches, wrapping his arms best he could around Darcy as she shivered, her hands pressed her mouth as sobs wracked her body.

This was his fault.

He was an idiot, to think HYDRA would forget about him, or give up trying to get him back. After a year of security, he'd been lulled into complacency. No, not lulled. He'd let himself slide. And Darcy had nearly died for his carelessness. Besides Steve, she was his only friend. The others, they tolerated his presence, and he didn't blame them. But Darcy...

Bucky took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain. No time for this crap now. He needed to focus on keeping her safe, getting her out in one piece. If it meant leaving her here, hidden and safe, while he gave himself up... well, then that was just the consequence of his actions. Or lack of them. Turning her to face him, her green eyes filled with fear, cheeks flushed and dirty, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then forced himself to drop his arms from her body and step back.

Her eyes widened as she searched his face.

"Bucky, no. No, no, _no_..."

Was he that easy to read now? All the more reason to remove her from the playing field. HYDRA would have no compunction torturing her to get his compliance, once they realized she meant something to him.

"Shhh." He held his finger to her lips, cutting off her protestations. She grabbed his hand, but he pulled away. "This is how you stay safe."

"I don't want this way." Tears spilled down her cheeks again. "Can't we just wait? The team should be here any moment."

"I can't take the chance they won't make it in time."

"Bucky—"

The sound of helicopters filled the air, gunfire and shouting immediately following. Her face filled with relief.

"See? They're here. Stay with me."

But there was no guarantee HYDRA agents wouldn't hunt them down while the firefight raged in the parking lot, unless he was in plain sight, somewhere away from her.

Shaking his head, he extracted himself from her grip, and pulled his gun from its ankle holster. The wounds in his back screamed at the movement, but he buckled down hard on the pain, focusing beyond the trees. Flicking the safety off with one thumb, he slid a long, thin blade out from under his other sleeve.

"Stay here." At her snarl of frustration, he just looked her, letting her see everything he felt in the moment in his eyes. "Please, Darcy." Her lips parted, then her shoulders slumped in defeat and she stepped back, huddling against the brick wall with her arms wrapped around her waist.

And he stepped out into the smoke and fire.


End file.
